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Yoo Joonghyuk goes slow. Almost too slow for his liking.
The sheets of the bed against Kim Dokja’s bare back are harsher on him than Yoo Joonghyuk’s hands, one holding firm against his thigh, the other inside of his cunt—two scissoring him open slowly, spreading him, entering before leaving.
It’s been like this for a while. Since Kim Dokja had shown him those two red lines on the test, since he’d been swooped up in an embrace tighter than all the rancid emotions that had strangled him in an era before, since Yoo Joonghyuk had choked out a pathetic sound by the crook of his neck, Yoo Joonghyuk has been overly cautious.
Overly cautious about Kim Dokja. Overly cautious about the baby. Overly cautious about even minute changes to their surroundings.
If Kim Dokja’s scent smelled a whiff off, Yoo Joonghyuk would try to drag him to the hospital. Keyword—try, since Kim Dokja put up enough of a struggle more often than not, managing to dissuade the stubborn bastard in the end. If Kim Dokja said something about it being too cold or too hot, Yoo Joonghyuk would turn the air conditioning on to extreme degrees. If Kim Dokja’s stomach even made the tiniest of noises, Yoo Joonghyuk would be off to the kitchen in no time.
Like a diligent househusband, Yoo Joonghyuk carried on with so many duties it became… burdensome, to say the least. Worse than burdensome, really.
And now, this was no different.
As with all things, it had only grown worse with time. When Kim Dokja’s bump began to show, even the slightest amount, Yoo Joonghyuk had abstained from this entire thing.
Sex, that is.
It took a bunch of time, and a little more convincing than necessary to get Yoo Joonghyuk to nod along with Kim Dokja’s antics, and now… Kim Dokja has to pay for the consequences of it all.
“Ugh,” Kim Dokja groans, “e-enough, Joonghyuk-ah. That’s enough.”
Yoo Joonghyuk’s gaze flicks onto his face, his eyes carrying barely concealed arousal. With his cock practically throbbing hard against his own thigh, Kim Dokja starts wondering if Yoo Joonghyuk is some sort of saint. The patience he has is astounding, and Kim Dokja has to consider if he should just push Yoo Joonghyuk down and ride him until he comes.
Being edged is something that Kim Dokja can’t stand. Yoo Joonghyuk surely knows this.
“Preparation,” Yoo Joonghyuk repeats, for the nth time this night. “I need to prepare you. Or else—”
“I know.” Kim Dokja huffs. “Or else it’ll tear. Don’t repeat yourself again, Yoo Joonghyuk.”
At Kim Dokja’s call of his full name, Yoo Joonghyuk wilts, like a kicked puppy. If Kim Dokja’s eyes aren’t wrong, even his cock seems to droop as if saddened by this whole ordeal. Kim Dokja regrets his words a little, but when brought back to what he’s been subjected to this entire night—almost thirty minutes straight of fingering—he rescinds his sympathies.
Still, Yoo Joonghyuk’s fingers are inside of him, a veritable weight, and he has to get them out somehow. If kicking the puppy isn’t going to get him what he wants, the next, obvious action is to pet the puppy, right?
“Joonghyuk-ah…” he tries. “Don’t you think I’m prepared enough? Look…” He pulls himself back on the bed, his weak arms shaking as he shifts, enough that Yoo Joonghyuk still looms over him, but his fingers are barely in him anymore. His legs move outwards, and his hand presses against the junction where his thigh and his crotch meet. Spreading himself with much difficulty—his cunt in clear view—Kim Dokja immediately sees a shift in Yoo Joonghyuk’s eyes. A darkening—one step closer to what he desires.
“But…” The word is weak as it escapes Yoo Joonghyuk’s lips, a last-ditch effort to remain sane. Kim Dokja already knows he’s won as soon as he hears that tone of voice.
“No more buts,” Kim Dokja says. “Just… If we’re going to do it, let’s do it now. If not, I’ll go to sleep.”
The change that Kim Dokja sees is immediate.
The fingers that have been in him since the start of this entire thing slip out entirely, without extra pretense. Kim Dokja hisses a little at the feeling of emptiness, but he doesn’t have to. The shadow above him looms, Yoo Joonghyuk’s furrowed brow clearly visible, his hand now grasping onto his own cock. Soon enough, the girth of it presses against his folds, parting his needy entrance, slipping a moan from his lips.
Finally, Kim Dokja thinks.
“Here,” Yoo Joonghyuk manages, his voice breathy and low. “Is this what you wanted?”
“Uh.” Kim Dokja shifts, moving back a little. He tries moving back a little, the sensation completely different from Yoo Joonghyuk’s fingers. It’s thicker—twitches intermittently with each one of the pulses from Kim Dokja’s cunt—responds so well, a warmth and thickness that nearly makes Kim Dokja come on the spot.
But, Yoo Joonghyuk stops his movement. His fingers, wet with Kim Dokja’s slick, pull against his hips, preventing him from escaping. And soon enough, the simple pull does more than that, pushing his cock further, further, and further into Kim Dokja—each inch at a time drawing numerous sounds and grunts from him, before Yoo Joonghyuk is fully in.
This bastard—of course, thinks it’s necessary to give him nearly a whole minute to adjust. But, by the thirty second mark, Kim Dokja’s breaths have already stabilized, and the itch inside of him, the tautness of his stomach, begs to be satisfied.
“Go,” comes Kim Dokja’s strained voice. “M-move—!”
Finally, this fussy bastard gets it, slipping out of Kim Dokja before he can even finish his sentence, and slamming back in.
“Kim Dokja, Kim Dokja,” Yoo Joonghyuk groans, “how—how can you be this tight…? After I prepared you for so long…”
Kim Dokja sobs as the thrusts grow more erratic, as the thrusts grow harsher, as Yoo Joonghyuk’s scent surrounds him—in the pillows, in the sheets, in the slap of his cock into his cunt, harsh and hard, and yet so delicious—so much so he wouldn’t mind being fucked all day, feeling the stretch of Yoo Joonghyuk around him.
Yes, yes, yes, his mind thinks. Closer and closer he gets, and that high comes closer in reach, each touch from Yoo Joonghyuk enough to drag him forwards, forwards—until he is just close, close enough that one last thrust of Yoo Joonghyuk’s hips sends him over the edge.
Fluttering slightly—his cunt pulses around Yoo Joonghyuk—his breath held for a little longer than necessary, sensitive as Yoo Joonghyuk pushes forth to reach his own climax. And thankfully, it comes quick—their paces were always strangely synced up, their bodies compatible—flooding his cunt with that tantalizing warmth.
Yoo Joonghyuk’s flaccid cock remains inside of him, and he still looms above Kim Dokja awkwardly. He stares, blinking dazedly at Kim Dokja‘s face.
Cute. Yoo Joonghyuk, after sex, is always cute. So much so, Kim Dokja wants to squeeze his cheeks. And so he does, a hand sliding right up to his face, crossing his chiselled cheekbone, before pinching at the skin, pulling it out with much difficulty. Yoo Joonghyuk obediently takes the punishment, a disgruntled expression taking over—his brow furrowing much more.
Too cute, Kim Dokja thinks, before pressing down on his furrowed brow, flattening the wrinkles.
Still, Yoo Joonghyuk does nothing, other than let Kim Dokja toy with his handsome face, again and again. It’s like he’s out of commission, after one round of sex. Has he really been deprived for so long?
After growing bored with pinching his cheek, and flattening his brow each time—a loop that repeats for longer than necessary—Kim Dokja tilts his head at the overly still Yoo Joonghyuk.
“What are you doing? Come—lay down on the bed, you bastard.” Kim Dokja’s hand hooks onto the back of Yoo Joonghyuk’s neck, dragging half of him on top of Kim Dokja, half of him onto the mattress—messy and stained with their fluids. He releases a sound of surprise as the impact crashes into him. “Ah—shit, you’re heavy.”
“Fool.” Yoo Joonghyuk huffs, and exasperation is evident in his voice. “You have to be careful. The baby—”
Fuck. With the afterglow still settling over him, he’s in no mood to hear any more of this nagging. His hand slaps over Yoo Joonghyuk’s mouth, shutting him up. “If you still have the energy to nag, aren’t you willing to go for another round of sex?”
With Kim Dokja’s bait set, Yoo Joonghyuk eagerly steps into the trap. His cock, hardening again inside of Kim Dokja, only draws a fiendish grin onto Kim Dokja’s face.